


Retreat

by veronamay



Series: Priest!Jensen 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M, Phone Sex, Religion Kink, Religious Conflict, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-28
Updated: 2008-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronamay/pseuds/veronamay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's at a spiritual retreat. Jared calls him. To <i>talk</i>. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat

_New Ways Ministry 'Word + Flesh + Spirit' Retreat_  
Philadelphia, PA  
11.39pm

It's late when the phone rings. Jensen's alone; he has a roommate, but there's an all-night poker game in one of the other rooms and Dave went along to try his luck. Jensen doesn't mind; Dave's nice enough, but a little solitude is welcome. It gives him time to think.

He knows it's Jared calling. Nobody else would call this late. He rolls over on the bed, muting the TV, and settles back against the pillows with the phone snugged against his ear.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to call," he says, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I know. I suck. I'm sorry." Jared's voice is warm, filling all his empty places. "I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you."

It's only been a week, but Jensen knows how Jared feels. Intimately.

"Yeah," he sighs. "How're you doing? You okay?"

"Fine. Tired. I'm not getting much sleep." Jared laughs quietly. "Too used to having you here, I guess."

Jensen's toes curl at that, and he stretches almost involuntarily, sliding down and sprawling across the bed. Something hard lodges under his hip; he digs around with his free hand and pulls out Jared's rosary. He'd left his own at home, wanting a tangible reminder of Jared while he was here. It must have slipped out of his pocket.

"I'm not sleeping too well myself," he admits, fingering the pewter beads. They slide cool and smooth across his hand, emitting a gentle clinking sound. "Thought maybe I'd go out tomorrow, get an octopus. It'd be just like sleeping with you."

"Tentacle porn. Kinky."

"You have a filthy mind, Jared."

"You love it."

He can't argue with that. He _does_ love it, loves what happens between them in bed. For all they've gone through to get there, to have this--and there are still times when Jensen has doubts, though he tries to keep them hidden--he can't help but respond to every move Jared makes. It's ingrained, almost automatic: Jared looks at him or touches him or speaks, and Jensen has no defence against him. It scares him, how much he wants from Jared. How much he _wants_ , period. He clenches his hand into a fist, feels the hard edges of the crucifix press into his skin.

"Hey. You still there?"

Jensen shakes his head to clear it. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"You."

It comes out deeper than he intended, low and almost rough, revealing everything. Jared lets out a frustrated moan in response, and Jensen feels himself getting hard.

"Asshole," Jared breathes, half-laughing the word. "I wasn't gonna do this."

_Do what?_ Jensen almost asks, but then he hears the sound of cloth rustling, elastic snapping, and he knows. His erection is suddenly heavy and aching, trapped inside his too-tight jeans.

"Why else did you call, then?" he asks, and drags Jared's rosary across his bare stomach. The beads catch and drag, raising a shiver on his skin.

"To _talk_ ," Jared says, sounding aggrieved. "You're on a _spiritual retreat_ , Jen. I was trying to, y'know, be respectful."

"I could hang up," Jensen offers. He dangles the crucifix in his belly button, wondering at his own wantonness.

"Too late," Jared says on a gasp, and then there's the sound of him licking his palm.

Jensen knows that sound, has heard it a thousand times, and he can picture exactly the way Jared looks right now: eyes closed, pink tongue sliding over a strong broad palm and long calloused fingers, the tangy taste of salt and motor oil that never quite comes off. Jensen bites back a gasp of his own, fumbling through the rosary to get his jeans undone. They shouldn't be doing this-- _he_ shouldn't be doing this, not here, not without at least making sure the door is safely locked--but this is what Jared does to him. What they do to each other, for each other. Logic and reason have no part in this; everything is instinct, want.

"Jensen," Jared's saying, voice low and gravelly. "You with me? We doing this?"

"Yes," he mutters, yanking his jeans down his thighs and spitting into his hand. "Yeah, Jared, I'm--fuck, yeah. I'm with you. I miss you."

"Wish I could see you now," Jared tells him on a gasping breath. "You look so fucking gorgeous when you come like that. Ever since the first time ..."

Jensen remembers the first time he jerked off for Jared, because of Jared--in the confessional at St Joseph's, shame and fear and want like a cloud choking him. The fear is gone, but he shudders when he looks down at himself and sees his fingers tight around his cock, Jared's rosary glinting obscenely between them, slick with spit. It feels fantastic. It's shocking. He's shocked at what he's doing, what they're doing together; at the way they can't seem to keep away from each other even when they try.

"Talk to me," Jared begs. "Tell me what you're doing. I wish I could see you--I wish I could do it for you--but you have to tell me, Jensen. I need you to--I need to know."

"I'm." Jensen forces his voice to work. "I've got. I'm on the bed, with my jeans pulled down. I've--your rosary, Jared, it's in my hand and I'm--God, it feels _amazing_. I wish," he interrupts himself with a stuttery moan, "oh Christ, I wish you could suck me while I do this. Fuck, Jared, it's so good, but your mouth would--it would be so much better."

"Jesus." Jared's breath catches on the word. "Jensen, you're fucking killing me. I want to suck you like that until you scream."

Jensen moans again, words deserting him, and lets the slap of his hand and his uneven breaths speak for him instead. He winds the rosary tight around his fingers and palm and strokes himself rough and fast, grunts and whimpers and Jared's name exploding on his tongue as he drives himself to completion. He can hear Jared talking, love words and curses and the faint sounds of his pleasure, and he aches to be there, to have Jared near, to touch all that warm smooth skin and feel the strength of him. He wants Jared's cock in his mouth, his cock in Jared's ass; he wants them to do everything all at once, and never stop.

Jared's gasping, calling his name, coming hard; Jensen runs the rosary over the head of his cock and around his balls, knees up and legs spread as wide as he can get them. His whole body convulses when he comes, white splatters clinging to silver-grey beads that he cleans off with his tongue, and he savours the metallic aftertaste because it's another reminder of Jared.

The phone has disappeared among the pillows. Jensen shucks off his jeans and hunts for it with shaking hands, has to hold it tight so he doesn't drop it. Jared heaves for breath in his ear and Jensen aches to touch him.

"Uh," he says stupidly. "That was."

"Yeah," Jared agrees. He laughs; it sounds as unsettled as Jensen feels. "We, uh. Probably shouldn't do that again."

"Probably not."

Jensen doesn't mention how much he absolutely, definitely wants to do that again every day until he's dead. Or at least until he gets home, until Jared can do it for him.

"When you get back, though ..." Jared's grinning now, he can tell. "That's a different story."

Great minds think alike. He grins back helplessly.

"Only five more weeks," Jensen promises.

"God, don't remind me. I'm gonna jerk off so much my dick'll fall off."

"This is why God created duct tape," Jensen says, and grins when Jared laughs.

"It's late. I should let you get some sleep."

"Yeah. You too." Jensen grips the phone tighter. "Jared?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

Jared inhales sharply, but when he speaks his voice is soft. "Yeah, I know. Love you too, Jen."

"G'night."

Jensen tosses the phone aside and stares at his hands for a long time, Jared's rosary clinking as he counts the beads. That shouldn't have happened. He loved it, would never say no to Jared, but ... it isn't right. His body is satisfied, and his heart is full, but his spirit--his _soul_ ...

Well, that's why he's here, isn't it? To improve and clarify his immortal soul. Tomorrow he'll find one of the priests and make confession, and after that--

"We'll see," he murmurs, and curls up on his side to sleep.

END

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be the first chapter in a sequel to the original fic, but I never got around to writing any more. This stands well enough on its own that I thought it was worth tacking it on the end, though. Even happy-ever-afters aren't perfect, after all.


End file.
